


Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Dancing, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski are the Same Age, Dinner, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 11:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20891126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Derek can be old-fashioned when it comes to some things—hard copy books, written letters, tea made in a pot, and romance.





	Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loveyProphet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveyProphet/gifts).

> Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy | Queen.

Derek was old-fashioned when it came to some things. He liked to read hardcopy books with leather-bound covers or worn-down and battered paperback covers, and pages that were thumbed smooth by how many times they had been read. He liked to receive letters in the mail and write down or print out the recipes that he liked. He’d make coffee on a stove-top expresso maker or make tea in a pot.

But one of the things he was most old-fashioned about was romance.

Derek was a kiss-on-the-third-date kind of guy.

But Stiles didn’t mind.

Stiles had always felt pressured by the fast-paced relationships of those around him. He liked this—he liked taking it slow. He liked going for walks and holding hands. He liked spending evenings curled up on a couch with Derek, talking, or dancing in the living room with the lights down low as Derek sang along to the words of the song.

The Sheriff laughed the first time Derek asked him if he could take Stiles out on a date.

“Even if I said no, there’s no way I can stop Stiles from doing what he wants to do,” he had told Derek. “So yes, you have my permission or blessing—or whatever—to take my son out on a date. As long as you respect him and don’t go causing trouble.”

Their first date had played out as cliché as anyone could imagine; Stiles and Derek had gone to the movies and then out to dinner afterwards, and when Derek walked Stiles home that night, he gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

For their second date, they had gone out for a walk and ice cream in the park, holding hands. And when Derek walked him home, he gave him another kiss on the cheek.

It wasn’t until the third date that Derek actually kissed him—and when he did, they both knew there was no going back.

They had gone for a walk through the reserve and went back to Derek’s to spend time together and maybe watch a movie. Stiles sat down on the couch, turning to look at Derek as he set up the movie.

“Does this count as a date?” Stiles asked.

“I guess so,” Derek replied as he sat down on the couch beside Stiles. “Why?”

“Well, the first date is a kiss on the cheek, the second date is holding hands,” Stiles recounted. “So what’s the third date?”

Derek pretended to think about it. He turned to face Stiles, gently reaching out and cupping Stiles’ face in his hand. He leant in close, tilting his head so his lips were millimetres away from Stiles’, his warm breath rolling across Stiles’ lips.

“This,” he whispered as he closed the space between them and drew their lips together.

The kiss was tender and hesitant.

Stiles let his breath fall from his lungs, his eyes fluttering shut as he looped his arms around Derek’s neck. He balled the soft cotton of Derek’s Henley into his fist, holding on tightly as he melted into Derek’s warmth.

Derek drew back, grinning at the euphoric expression on Stiles’ face.

Stiles tilted his chin, chasing his Derek’s lips. He felt Derek chuckle against his mouth as he brought their lips back together again.

Stiles couldn’t explain it; it just felt right.

…

Stiles pulled on a light grey dress shirt, buttoning it up but leaving the top button undone.

They had a dinner reservation for seven o’clock in the city, and Stiles was beginning to panic a little.

There was a knock downstairs.

“Just a second,” Stiles shouted from his room.

He grabbed the black jacket he had laid out on the bed and pulled it on as he made his way downstairs. He opened the front door, a bright smile lighting his face when he saw Derek standing on the doorstep with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

The man was dressed in a neat suit—a blue-grey dress shirt and a tailored black jacket with a smoky-grey silk lining. His short dark hair had been pulled back from his face, somehow looking rugged but groomed at the same time.

Derek smiled back at him, his deep aventurine eyes sparkling as he looked at Stiles.

“Hey,” Stiles said softly.

“Hi,” Derek replied, looking Stiles up and down. A look of amazement settled over his face. “You look incredible.”

“So do you,” Stiles replied.

Derek let out a quiet chuckle, a soft pink blush colouring his cheeks as he hung his head bashfully. He held the flowers out. “These are for you.”

It was a stunning arrangement of pale purple roses, white prairie gentians, lilac, and sprigs of baby’s breath wrapped in silver paper and tied off with a silky white ribbon.

“They’re beautiful,” Stiles said softly. “Come on in. I’ll put these in some water.”

Derek followed Stiles into the kitchen, sitting down on one of the stools by the bench and watching as he got a vase down from the top cabinet and filled it with water, carefully unwrapping the flowers and setting them in the vase.

Stiles untied the silky ribbon from around the bouquet and tied it off around the vase before carefully carrying it over to the kitchen table where he was sure it wouldn’t be knocked over.

He turned around to face Derek, looking down at himself. “Is this alright?”

Derek reached out for Stiles’ hand, pulling the young man close and pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

“Perfect,” Derek whispered, looking at Stiles lovingly.

“I don’t nearly look as good as you,” Stiles said softly.

Derek reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair back from Stiles’ face. “You do in my eyes.”

Stiles felt the flush of heat rush to his cheeks. He bashfully bit into his lower lip as he bowed his head.

Derek slid his finger under Stiles’ chin, gently coercing him to lift his head and meet his gaze. He stared lovingly into Stiles’ eyes as he leant forward and brought their lips together.

Stiles slowly drew back. “We’d better get going if we’re going to make our reservation.”

“Alright,” Derek said softly, pushing himself off the stool and standing upright.

Stiles grabbed his keys and wallet from where he had left them on the small table in the hallway, shutting the door behind himself as he followed Derek out into the front yard.

Stiles stopped short, looking at the car that was parked out the front of his house.

“We’re taking the Camaro?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Derek said, stepping around to the passenger’s side and holding the door open for Stiles.

“I thought you put it in storage?”

“I brought it out for tonight,” Derek answered. “I wanted this to be special.”

“I didn’t forget a milestone or an anniversary, did I?” Stiles asked, panicked.

“No,” Derek reassured him, shutting Stiles’ door before stepping around the car and climbing into the driver’s seat. He leant across and pressed a soft kiss to Stiles’ cheek. “I just wanted this to be special.”

Stiles smiled sweetly, turning his head and returning the kiss.

The Camaro roared to life, the rumble of the engine rolling through Stiles as Derek drove down the street. He navigated his way through the town and onto the freeway, driving towards the city.

Stiles let his mind drift away as they drove, looking out the window at the world that flew.

The landscape was full of colour: lush evergreen trees and thick undergrowth filled with blooming wild flowers with blue, purple, white, yellow, and orange petals. The sun was just beginning to set, streaking the azure blue sky with bursts of orange and pink and lighting the world with rich colours.

The day had faded to dusk as they made it to the city. Derek pulled up before a towering building. It looked old—probably one of the first buildings built in the city—with thick columns framing the door and pale sandstone bricks scaling the building. The archways over the windows and doorways were decorated with ornate carvings of fleur de lis, flourishing leaves, and curling tendrils.

Two mahogany doors marked the entrance, the doorhandles made of gold and polished to shine.

“When you said we were going somewhere fancy you weren’t kidding,” Stiles muttered before stepping out of the car.

Derek passed his keys to the valet, waiting for Stiles to step around the car. He set his hand on the small of Stiles’ back and ushered him towards the door.

A man in a crimson-red uniform stood by the door, bowing politely before pulling open the door and inviting them inside.

Another man greeted them in the doorway, checking the reservations before ushering them through the large space and up a staircase to the second floor.

The far wall was decorated with glossy grey marble, the other walls painted white and lit by the shimmering chandeliers that hung in the centre of the room. The walls facing the street were lined with windows that reached the ceiling.

The man led them over to the table by the window, offering them their menus before returning downstairs.

“Derek,” Stiles started slowly.

“I know it’s not the Ritz,” Derek said quietly. “But there’s nowhere in Beacon Hills that you can get a view like this.”

He nodded towards the window beside them.

Stiles looked out across the window, watching as the city disappeared beneath them. The bold colours of the sunset that had lit the world with a stunning glow had disappeared, the sky dark. From where they sat, they could see all the way into the distance, where the faded silhouettes of mountains bordered the horizon.

He watched as the last light of dusk disappeared. He looked up at the sky above them, a pool of onyx in which the few scattered stars that glittered in the darkness like fireflies dancing across the surface of a lake.

“Wow,” Stiles whispered, staring at the view.

When he turned to look back at Derek, the man was watching him with a dreamy gaze and a soft smile.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing,” Derek said softly.

“No, what are you smiling at?” Stiles encouraged.

“You,” Derek answered honestly. “All of this was worth it just to see that look on your face.”

Stiles chuckled breathlessly, bowing his head and hiding his blushing face behind his menu.

…

They ordered dinner and ate, their quiet conversation mingling with the hushed buzz of voices that filled the restaurant.

Stiles levelled Derek with a glare when he ordered a vintage wine with their meal.

“Stiles,” Derek said softly as he poured Stiles a glass of wine. “I have the money to cover this. Order what you want and just ignore the price.”

Stiles pouted, lifting the wine glass to his lips. He took a sip, shocked by the rich flavour of the liquor.

“Good, isn’t it?” Derek said, a hint of a smug smile lifting the corners of his lips.

Stiles reluctantly nodded as he set his glass down on the table.

They finished the meal and Derek waved over the waiter and for the bill.

Stiles reached into his jacket pocket.

“Don’t,” Derek said warningly, his voice soft and quiet but enough to halt Stiles. “I’m paying.”

“Derek,” Stiles started.

“No,” Derek replied softly.

Stiles let the argument die away, pouting at Derek.

The man gently shook his head, chuckling. He paid for their dinner and rose from his seat, holding his hand out to Stiles.

Stiles rose from his chair, taking a step towards Derek and letting the man pull him close.

They made their way back downstairs, stepping out into the cool night air as the valet brought the Camaro around front.

Derek held the door open for Stiles and tipped the valet before stepping around into the driver’s seat.

“Your place or mine?” Stiles asked teasingly.

Derek let out a low chuckle. He turned the key, letting the car come alive.

Stiles let his gaze drift out the window, watching the world pass by.

The stars danced across the sky as they drove through the streets, wisps of cloud drifting across the inky-black abyss.

Finally, they pulled into the driveway of Stiles’ house.

His father had left the front light on for them, the dull glow lighting their path as Stiles and Derek climbed out of the car and made his way up to the front door.

Stiles pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, shoving it open and stepping inside. He flicked on the lights as he moved through the house, lighting up the darkness.

Derek shut the front door and followed Stiles into the living room, turning on the radio.

Stiles turned to look at him. “What are you doing?”

“Come here,” Derek said softly, reaching out to take Stiles’ hand.

Stiles stepped into his arms, letting Derek pull him close and burying his face in the curve of Derek’s neck.

Derek rested a hand on Stiles’ waist as he began to move his feet—swaying to the music. He began to sing the words, his voice quiet and tender.

_“I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things_  
_ We can do the tango just for two_  
_ I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings_  
_ Be your Valentino just for you_

_Ooh love ooh loverboy_  
_ What're you doin' tonight, hey boy_  
_ Set my alarm, turn on my charm_  
_ That's because I'm a good old-fashioned lover boy_.”

Stiles looked up, his eyes meeting Derek's.

Derek watched as the light played across the young man's face, highlighting his cheeks and the freckles that charted constellations across his skin before settling in his eyes, making the chocolate-brown depths shimmer like pools of golden liquor.

He held Stiles’ gaze as he serenaded him,

_“When I'm not with you_  
_ I think of you always_  
_ I miss you_  
_ When I'm not with you_  
_ Think of me always_  
_ Love you, love you_”

Stiles bowed his head again, nuzzling his face into the curve of Derek's neck.

A soft smile played across Derek's lips. He craned his neck and pressed a tender kiss to the crown of Stiles' head before resting his cheek atop Stiles' head, letting his body move in slow circles and he and Stiles swayed back and forth-dancing across the living room.

_“Ooh love, Ooh loverboy_  
_ What're you doin' tonight, hey boy._  
_ Everything's all right_  
_ Just hold on tight_  
_ That's because I'm a good old-fashioned fashioned lover boy_.”

The music drifted away as another song began to play, but Derek wasn’t paying attention anymore.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He felt Stiles smile as he bashfully lifted his face and met Derek’s gaze. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


End file.
